Bloody Moon

Bloody Moon

Rusty moon
¿Is this blood
Bad omen
Or good luck?

Burnished bronze
That unbiased
Sees world
From above

Why are you today
Sharing the color
With the bricks’ clay
With the ancient sword

You know
We’re all innocent
Beasts after all
Who don’t know

The difference
Between arms and tools
Between machines
And indolent people

Please red moon
Bring us soft rains
With the fresh breeze
That eases love

VABM February 28, 2010

Lights

Lights

I’m wondering about you
And our life
Separated by few mountains

Those that according
Mother Zhon’s watercolors
Just fade 15 % of its light
On each row
Across horizons

I’m wondering about our love
Because the moon is glowing
Her yellow glow
Above us

You know?
She studied light
Under horizons
Or more exactly:
How palm trees reverberate
Inside a mirage

A lot of time before
You and me
Have come to live at
The fading tones
Of reality

And asked herself
How far have gone
The original light
Of the ice & fire explosion
Of creation

And how many giga seconds
Human shadows
Still will transit
The living soil

VABM February 28, 2010

Tools

Tools

Being honest

I can find beauty in nuts and bolts

Can appreciate a good design

And enjoy the power

On the turbines of fighters

I also have heard the song

Of the flexible stainless steel

On pipelines, swords,
bridges and deadly springs

And I’ll be ever amazed by planes

And silicon chips

That can do mathematics

That’s because I know

There is no sin in the tool

Neither machine

And also have the delight

For a good battle

Preferable if it’s balanced

And of course

Have been bitten by curiosity

A lot of times

For example

I enjoy a lot my camera

It will be always to me

A miracle

To freeze, reproduce, retouch and transmit

Reality

Because that is exactly

What I’m trying to do

At this very instant

VABM Tuesday, February 23, 2010

The God of Joy

The God of Joy

I’m walking
Overrun by normality
By your tomb’s side

Roses in excess
Kiss you goodbye
Away from OUR world

May the God of joy
Be merciful
With my soul

Now I’m walking alone
For the first time
THE world

VABM Sunday, February 14, 2010

Sugar cane field

Sugar cane field

During day
Human beings
Do the same hard work
Wasps, ants and bees do

To obtain
The sweetest things
This world can produce
On its humble soil

But by night
I enjoy the privilege
Of to walk alone
On the sugar cane field

Witnessing the crime
The feral cats commit
Every night
With the sacred birds

And with the divine snake
Routinely
With a hunger argued
Impunity

This kind of crop
Is a very special one
No roots, fruits, seeds and leafs
Are sold

Just the trunk
Of the plant
Is squeezed out
By machines

And they ooze
The sweetest sap
This planet’s crust
Can produce

And when the rest of the plant
Is eliminated by fire
The rain that falls
Is made of ash

It occurs to me
That somewhere
There must be a moral
A conclusion

So I use to walk alone
Searching for it
Under the stars
On the sugarcane field

Usually drinking rum
That, as everybody knows,
Is made of the sweetest crops
Humans can grow

VABM Saturday, February 13, 2010

Under another orange sun

Under another orange sun

All of what I know
Still is as useful
As a bridge
Over a dry creek

You know?
Cargo still must pass
Over the void

Here I am:
Me without you

I’m so sorry
Walking below
Another orange sun

VABM Sunday, February 07, 2010

Life & Time

Life & Time

Life
Time

VABM 2/7/2010

http://victor-bueno.ning.com/profiles/blogs/vida-y-tiempo

Life & Time

Life & Time

Life
Time

VABM 2/6/2010

God's dice

God's dice

Life isn’t concerned about
What you like or dislike
Or what makes you sad or glad

Life has to do with phosphate bases
And sustainability
And statistics

VABM Saturday, February 06, 2010

A big Y

A big Y

Loneliness
May be boredom
Have pushed me again
Against my mountain’s wall

Today I’ve seen
God drawing
A perfect Y of fire
While a wildfire was burning
The mountain at my front

I’ve been playing games of imagination
About who can read the whole text
And about the God’s poems

The same God who wastes bird’s nests
And the lives of iguanas and snakes

In my way home
I’ve found an already wounded
Strayed highway dog
But he was scared
Of my love call
And preferred to cross

It was not the first time
I’ve seen death
But I’m afraid
I’ll never go comfortable
Suffering a loss

I’m running short of smoke
So my last butt
Will go to the dry bush
Praying God
Another wildfire will ignite
From my humble actions

VABM Monday, February 01, 2010

On a draft of Master Zhon March 4, 1999